Arthur Kirkland's Problem

Chapter 18:

I don't own Hetalia, because Hidekaz Himaruya does.

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       Two hours later, the whole cowlick thing was done. America was passed out in the guest room, too tired and embarrassed to do anything, and the three people who had helped him out were in the living room, failing to create an unawkward conversation.

        "So..." Arthur began, "Alfred's cowlick is.... That."

        Allen nodded. "Yeah."

        Silence. Then Oliver said, "You know, it's already nine. If you want to stay, we have another guest room."

        "Sure."

        Oliver stood up. "I'll show you where it is."

        The two left, and not three minutes later Arthur decided to go to bed. He went up to his room and locked the door. He pulled his magic book out and moved the rug on the floor, then drew a pentagram on said wood floor. He lit some candles and put each one on each point of the star. He wrote himself a note and put it on his bed. What he was doing was for America's happiness- he was positive that when the loud American woke up he wouldn't like having people know about the event that happened. So if no one remembered, it was fine, right? Other than the fact that Allen would just appear in the house out of no where..

        He pulled a black cloak over his outfit and began searching his book for a spell that would erase select memories from several people's minds.

        'Erasing Memories ', the text read. Arthur looked over it, then said in a clear voice,

"Ut ipsam memoriam,

Ab illis qui elegi

Oliver, Allen, Alfred,

et me,

ut lateret in perpetuum

venenatis id, nisi ad recipiendum illam."

        Once more the feeling of magic being used on him surrounded Arthur, calming him. He felt the memory of that night begin to fade away, and before he knew it, he was in a cloak, next to a pentagram, with no memory of why he was there or what he was doing. He looked around frantically, until he spied a note on his bed. He walked over to it and read the cursive hand-writing. His writing.

        'Dear Arthur,

 This is you. You probably don't remember what happened tonight, or why you're standing in a magic circle. Well, something embarrassing happened to Alfred and I felt like being nice and erasing everyone's memories of the event. That's it. Don't worry.

                                                 Sincerly, Arthur'

        Britain sighed, feeling very fortunate that it was just that. He crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it away, then drenched the candles and put them in his backpack. After that he pulled his rug over the pentagram, and sat down on his bed. Seriously, the things he did for America's happiness...

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        Meanwhile...

        Allen looked around, then spied Oliver. How had he gotten there? And why was he so worn out? Seriously, it felt like he had just held someone down for hours.. Oliver looked just as confused as he felt.